Twelve Years of Christmas
by Sela McGrane
Summary: The evolution of Hermione and Minerva's relationship over the course of twelve Christmas Days.


**HAPPY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE! No, this is not a Telling Time update (I'm getting back to it, I promise!), but rather a season appropriate ficlet I had an idea for. Hammered the whole thing out in two days, and I hope you all enjoy it.**

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 **On the first year of Christmas, Hermione gave to me…**

When Minerva McGonagall sat to take inventory of her gifts on Christmas morning of nineteen ninety-four, she'd been surprised to find a gift from one of her students. In thirty-eight years of teaching at Hogwarts, she'd only had two other students send her gifts of any sort. The first time had been her first year of teaching, when she'd still been quite young and one of the seventh year Gryffindor boys had developed a rather large crush on her during the grand total of the four months he'd known her.

That gift, she'd returned with a very firm note to the lad, suggesting that his affections should be placed elsewhere, as there was no possibility of her returning his feelings. Her own personal convictions about what was appropriate between a student and his or her teacher aside, she was in fact a lesbian and would not have been interested in the boy even if he'd approached her after his graduation. Which he didn't.

The second gift had not been a Christmas gift, but rather a thank you from a seventh year Slytherin, whom she'd encountered a month prior the girl's graduation, sobbing in a bathroom. She'd been torn between her pureblood upbringing and the expectations of that, and her rapidly growing feelings for a muggleborn boy from Gryffindor House. The gift had been a wonderful charm bracelet featuring a snake and a lion. Seven months after that, Minerva had attended the wedding of Andromeda Black and Theodore Tonks, whose daughter Minerva would also have the pleasure of teaching some years later. That gift, she'd kept, though she rarely wore the item in question. She'd never been a person who wore a lot of jewelry, but she did appreciate the keepsake that to this day reminding her love really did conquer most things. It reminded her that love might someday come calling on her.

This gift was from her fourth year Gryffindor, Hermione Granger, and it was a book. She had no idea how the girl had known she'd been hunting for Elphida Selwyn's _Artifacts by Class,_ and she was horribly curious to know. She'd been hunting this book for nearly ten years with no luck, and then lo and behold, a fifteen year old girl who she hardly spoke to outside of class, had stumbled on the rare volume.

This gift, she would treasure, though it was not because of how hard to come by the book was, but rather because for whatever reason, Hermione had taken the time and made the effort to get to know her enough to even think to find it. That spoke a great deal of how highly Hermione must think of her, and Minerva suddenly resolved to put out her own effort in getting to know her student better than she did. If there was one thing that anyone who knew Minerva would attest to, it was that she was an innately curious person, and Hermione Granger had her very curious indeed.

 **On the second year of Christmas, Minerva gave to me…**

Despite the looming threat from Voldemort, the members of the Order of the Phoenix and their various under-age guests were in full swing to celebrate Christmas at Number Twelve, Grimmauld place, very much to the protest of Kreacher the House Elf, and the old house itself. The seat of the Black family had long been a place of darkness and sorrow, but as first light peeked through the windows on Christmas morning, and Hermione Granger opened her eyes with a flutter, all she felt was joy. For all that was wrong in the world, including the recent injury to Mr. Weasley, the fact that Hermione and her friends could gather here, safe and warm, was something that no amount of evil could take away.

Hermione had been awake nearly half an hour now, but it was still startling when there was a light rapping on her door. The recently turned sixteen year old Gryffindor had always been an early riser, and had come to enjoy the quiet of the mornings. It was usually at least an hour before others could be heard shifting in their beds as consciousness began to reach them. Even on Christmas morning, Ron and Harry would not be dragging themselves toward the washroom to brush their teeth for another two hours, both boys well aware than Mrs. Weasley would begin serving breakfast at eight-thirty, and that she'd fuss if they weren't downstairs by nine.

She stood quickly, bed groaning with age as she did, and made her way to the door. "Professor McGonagall!" she greeted with surprise. Hermione had known that Minerva would be here today, though she hadn't expected her quite this early.

"Miss Granger," the elder witch greeted with a small smile. "Forgive me if I woke you, but when I asked Sirius' Elf to bring this to you, he outright refused."

Hermione's eyes lit up as her teacher held out a small box. "You didn't have to…" she protested. As it happened, Hermione was thrilled to receive something from the woman she had a mad crush on, but it was certainly in poor taste to admit as much, especially given that since their relationship was only teacher and pupil, Minerva shouldn't have gotten her anything at all.

It had started with that book. Hermione had been perusing the shelves at a less than reputable bookstore in Knockturn Alley two summers prior when she noticed a title that sounded familiar, though she knew she'd never read such a book. She'd stood there thinking for ten minutes before she realized that she'd overheard Professor Dumbledore ask Professor Flitwick if he knew of anyone who might have that title, and that he was asking because for several years running, it had been the title Minerva had given when he'd asked her what she wanted for Christmas. So, Hermione had bought it then and there, and upon returning to Hogwarts in September she'd asked the Headmaster if Minerva had found a copy yet. When he said she hadn't, Hermione admitted that she'd found one, and intended to give it to her for Yule. His eyes had twinkled at that, and in retrospect, Hermione wondered if he'd known then when she was realizing now - that she would eventually fall in love with her Professor.

"You didn't have to give _me_ that book," Minerva countered with a soft smile. "Call it a thank you for the gift present, if you like. Though it seemed fitting to give it to you now."

"Thank you," Hermione replied, blushing a little.

Minerva didn't stay to watch her open it. She merely wished Hermione a Happy Christmas, usage of given name included, and promised to see her shortly for breakfast. After she was gone, the younger witch returned to her bed and carefully tore away the paper. Inside the box were two flawless pearl studs - exactly the sort of subtle and unobtrusive jewelry that Hermione preferred.

When Hermione came down the stairs for breakfast wearing dark blue jeans, a red sweater, and the gifted earrings a half hour later, she cast a bright smile at her Professor, and for a moment, Minerva seemed startled. Hermione had no earthly idea why.

 **On the third year of Christmas, Hermione gave to me…**

Minerva had never been so glad to have a student come of age in her life. In all the years she'd been an educator, she had never once looked at a student under her charge in an inappropriate manner. Not until Hermione Granger. Exactly three hundred and sixty-five days prior, when Hermione had walked down the stairs at Headquarters, Minerva had seen a woman wearing a divine red sweater with jeans that hugged her arse perfectly, and a pair of pearl earrings she'd just gifted to the young woman in question. The whole thing had been terribly shocking. She'd been shocked the gift had been well received (as she'd really taken a wild guess at the girl's taste), she'd been shocked at the radiant smile Hermione had cast only to her (it had been years since someone had look at her in such a manner), and she'd been shocked to feel arousal coursing through her as she'd ogled (no, appreciated!) a sixteen year old girl's perfect curves.

She'd stewed in guilt for the next nine months until Hermione came of age, and in the three months since then she'd had a fair helping of self loathing because really, of age or not, Hermione was still her student, and teachers should not have errotic dreams about their students. It was just _wrong_. Until five minutes ago, Minerva had been feeling pretty good about her progress in squashing the attraction to Hermione. That was, at least, until said young woman had shown up at her quarters bright and early on Christmas morning, bringing her a gift.

Minerva hadn't even opened it yet, still too wrapped up in the fact that Hermione had handed it to her and then proceeded to press a soft kiss to her cheek, before wishing her a Happy Christmas and bounding away without so much as a _see you later_. All year long, Minerva had tried to rid herself of the attraction she felt for Hermione, and it hadn't once occurred to her that Hermione might be attracted to _her_. Merlin knew that Minerva coud call the kiss a platonic gesture and leave it at that, but once again, Hermione had gone and made Minerva _curious_. It had been so long since a student had developed a crush on her that the older woman hardly knew what to make of it at this point, if Hermione did in fact have a crush on her at all.

Absently, still lost in her thoughts, Minerva began to peel away the wrapping paper, not even looking until she felt soft wool come in contact with her fingers. In her hands now lay a pair of gloves, a scarf, and a hat, all in her family tartan. Minerva knew damn well (she'd looked) that none of the shopkeepers in Wizarding or Muggle London, carried her family's colors, and as she also knew that Hermione did like to knit, it was reasonable to assume that this wonderful gift had been hand made. It had likely taken the young woman months to do, given the details in the pattern. Once again, Hermione had selected something personal and lovely. This year, however, it would not be the gift that Minerva would treasure, but the giver of the gift herself.

No matter what attraction may or may not lay between them, Minerva knew she'd always treasure Hermione Jean Granger. Probably moreso after the young woman graduated and whatever feelings could grow without continued guilt and self loathing. As for today, Minerva decided that she was going to take a walk in the snow after breakfast, new hat, scarf, and gloves very much on her person.

She burrowed her face in the scarf and inhaled deeply. Yes, they smelled like Hermione alright.

 **On the fourth year of Christmas, Minerva gave to me…**

Hermione had no bloody idea how Minerva had managed to get her a gift as she, Harry, and Ron were on the run in the wild, hunting Horcruxes. Never mind the question of why she'd go to such effort at all when they all had bigger problems to deal with. Still, here Hermione was, nerves on fire and pulse throbbing at the notion that she might not be alone in her romantic interest. Certainly casual friendship would not have gone to such lengths, and Hermione had made it fairly clear last Christmas that her own interest was not purely platonic. Okay, maybe not _that_ clear. She'd been planning on planting a short kiss on Minerva's lips, though she'd chickened out at the last second. In retrospect, she was glad she'd not kissed Minerva on the lips that morning, as it would have made classes horribly awkward during the following six months, no matter how the older woman might have felt about it.

Hermione shook her head, dismissing the memory and returning her attention to the plainly wrapped box with her name on it, in Minerva's familiar handwriting. Ron, the idiot, was who-knew where at the moment, and Harry was on watch for another half hour before they headed over to Godric's Hollow. She'd been getting them some breakfast together when the package had suddenly appeared on the table. For a moment, she thought she'd seen an Elf, but she couldn't be sure. She did suppose that House Elves could track people in ways that most other magic couldn't.

Her heart pounded when she opened the box and pulled away a short note. _Hermione,_ it read, _Albus told me what he'd entrusted Mister Potter to do, before his passing. I know you well enough to know that you won't be anywhere else right now except by Harry's side, and I knew before you left that nothing I could say or do would change your mind about it. Still, I hope you stay safe. Perhaps an unusual gift, but I suspect that the enclosed will be of some help to you. Yours, MM._

In the box and each wrapped in black cloth were four basilisk fangs. They now had a way to destroy the Horcruxes.

If Hermione hadn't known it before now, she was now certain beyond any doubt that she was completely, madly, and irrevocably in love with Minerva McGonagall.

 **On the fifth year of Christmas, Hermione gave to me…**

Minerva supposed she shouldn't have been surprised when Hermione showed up at her quarters in the early hours of Christmas morning, despite the fact that the young woman had elected not to return to Hogwarts after the war ended. "Is this going to be a thing?" she asked with a wry grin as she motioned for the young woman to come inside.

"Who am I to go against tradition?" Hermione bantered, tossing a package toward her Professor, who caught it deftly.

The box weighed next to nothing, which intrigued the older witch. For once, Hermione remained as she opened her gift, looking eager for her Professor's reaction. Paper tossed aside, and box unsealed, Minerva pulled out a small packet of parchment, and scanned the contents of the missive.

It was the contract of employment for Hogwarts Professors, with the blanks all filled in with the exception of her own signature. Employee title: Transfiguration Professor. Education: Level One Transfiguration Mastery. Employment term: five years. Employee name: Hermione Granger.

Minerva just stared at it for a moment, thinking of the nightmare that had been fifty odd interviews for her post and how none of them had been suited. She was running herself ragged trying to deal with her duties as Headmistress, on top of teaching all the Transfiguration classes. And how had she not known that Hermione had passed the Mastery exam?

"All you have to do is sign, and I'm yours for the next five years," Hermione said quietly. "I took the Mastery exam six weeks ago. I'm hoping to go for the level two exam by this summer. I can take over your classes immediately."

"You are officially my favorite person in the world," Minerva finally said with a sigh of relief. She non-verbally summoned a quill and signed her name on the contract. Hermione was now a Professor at Hogwarts. Hermione would be by her side for five years. Longer, she hoped, even if they were just friends. What a friend to have indeed, who would go to such trouble for her.

Hermione laughed. "You've been my favorite person for a long time, Professor."

"Minerva," the older woman corrected, walking toward her guest. "We're peers now. Coworkers. Equals."

Hermione gulped visibly. "Minerva, then," she agreed in a whisper. "I suppose I should…"

"Go get your things and bring them to Hogwarts?" Minerva finished, stepping closer, her own voice low.

"Yes," the younger agreed, now finding herself toe to toe with her former teacher. "I should go do that."

Minerva was now quite certain there was a mutual attraction between she and Hermione, but she also knew it was not time to explore it. Not quite yet. Not moments after binding her to a contract. She didn't want Hermione to ever think she was obligated to be involved with her because she was obligated to remain at Hogwarts.

So, she pressed a gentle kiss to Hermione's cheek. "See you when you get back?" she asked.

 _When I am considerably less hot and bothered_ , she thought to herself.

"Of course," Hermione replied.

"Have dinner with me?" Minerva offered, promising herself that it was just an effort to welcome Hermione to the staff. It was most certainly not a date.

"I'd like that," she agreed. "Six?"

Minerva nodded, unable to do anything but take note of the blush creeping up Hermione's neck and on her cheeks, and the careful smile that told Minerva that Hermione was just as nervous about the ' _what may be's'_ as she was.

 **On the sixth year of Christmas, Minerva gave to me…**

Five years after realizing that she was falling for her Professor, Hermione stood equal to the woman. Now, she was another Professor, not a student, and after last year, Hermione was fairly sure the attraction between them was mutual. The question now was what to do about it.

On one hand, Hermione was inclined to refrain from making a move until her contract was nearly up in another four years, just in case things went badly. It would be excruciating to be rejected, and yet still have to see the woman she was in love with on a daily basis. On the other hand, she was a Gryffindor, and Hermione was no stranger to being bold. Why wait four more years when they could be together now? Why waste all that time, during which they could be sharing their love for each other rather than keeping it hidden in the shadows of doubt and insecurity. Besides, Harry was working for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and had connections to a number of wizarding lawyers. Worse case, she was sure she could find a way to break the contract that presently bound her to Hogwarts, and by extension, to Minerva.

Of course, Harry wouldn't be able to do much about her heart, and that was the real kicker.

While Hermione was lost in her thoughts as she marked essays in her classroom, she failed to notice Minerva enter the quiet room, moving stealthily between the rows of desks into she was standing directly in front of the Transfiguration Professor, her shadow looming over the homework Hermione was going over.

"Sweet Merlin!" Hermione gasped, startled. "You about gave me a heart attack."

"My apologies," Minerva said with a small grin. "Though had you been in your office instead of your classroom, I'd have needed to knock."

"I like it in here," the younger woman admitted. "It takes me back to simpler times."

"I know what you mean," the Headmistress agreed, having once done much the same thing when she first started teaching.

Hermione looked intently at her mentor, wondering if once upon a time, she'd been sitting in the classroom wondering if she could live up to the expectations of Albus Dumbledore, much like she was wondering if she'd live up to Minerva's example. In some ways, Hermione wanted Minerva's respect even more than she wanted the woman's love.

"I got you something," Minerva said after a moment of silence, beginning to dig in her pocket. In a few seconds, she'd pulled out a shrunken package, and a few seconds after that, a large box was sitting in front of her.

She raised an eyebrow. "Is this going to be a thing?" she teased.

"At this point I'd have to say most definitely," Minerva replied with a chuckle. "Odd sort of tradition we have going, but it seems to… suit us."

Hermione nodded. "That it does."

She tore the paper away and opened the box, eyes wide when she pulled out a black teaching robe, not unlike what Snape had once worn, though obviously designed for a woman. Hermione recalled mentioning to Minerva some months ago that while she did think Snape was a bit of a bastard, she had loved the way his robes allowed for easy movement, and yet still billowed with a flair. She'd also mentioned that she liked the black color - it was neutral and showed no favoritism - and she'd told her employer that she couldn't seem to find five minutes for a bit of light reading, let alone time enough to leave the castle and hunt down a robe maker that might be able to create something for her that would make her feel one hundred percent witch, without completely disregarding her muggle roots.

"There are five black teaching robes," Minerva explained. "One for each day of the work week, and one more robe more suited for formal occasions. I confess I had to borrow some of your clothing in order to get your measurements right."

So that had been where her favorite jeans had gone too, Hermione mused. "Thank you, Minerva. This is wonderful. I can't wait to try them on."

Minerva pointed to the storeroom behind them. "Don't let me stop you!"

Hermione grinned, and pulled the first robe out of the box and dashed into the storeroom, walking out a few minutes later with a smile that could have lit up the room. She did a circle around the room, and Minerva watched as the younger woman transformed into her Animagus form and did another lap. Minerva had known, of course, that Hermione had mastered the Animagus transformation, as per required for first level mastery in their mutually chosen field, but this was the first time she'd seen the black panther with her own eyes, and she was in awe.

"You're beautiful, Hermione," Minerva muttered under her breath.

The panther hearing picked up her comment, and bounded toward her, transforming back to human form, billowing black robes and all, just before she reached the front of the classroom. "Thanks," she said, pressing a kiss to her employer's cheek. "For the robes, and for the compliment."

Minerva blushed, not having meant for Hermione to hear what she'd said. "Yes, well… you're quite welcome."

With that comment, Minerva bid Hermione farewell, and left, knowing her resolve to stay away from romantic entanglements with an employee was weakening with every passing second. Who wouldn't be enchanted by Hermione Granger, after all?

 **On the seventh year of Christmas, Hermione gave to me…**

For the first time in as long as Minerva could remember, Hogwarts was devoid of students for Christmas break. Every single child was home with their families, as well as most of the staff. In fact, there were only two people in the castle at the moment. She was one, Hogwarts being her home of many years, and Hermione, who had opted out of going skiing with her parents in the Swiss Alps.

As Minerva puttered around her room in the early morning hours of Christmas day, she was surprised that Hermione hadn't come around yet. Per their unofficial tradition, it was her year to do the gifting, and while she certainly didn't require that the younger witch continue with whatever they'd been doing, Minerva couldn't help but feel hurt at the absence. Any other year, she might have told herself that Hermione was just caught up with a student, and she'd be here before too long at all, but there were no students, or staff, to have elsewise occupied.

In fact, if Minerva was going to look at things from a possible romance sort of angle, it couldn't really get much more romantic than this; the two of them, sole living, human inhabitants of Hogwarts castle, on Christmas morning. There was a light snowfall out her window, and the house elves had made certain that the fireplaces were roaring, to ward off the chill. If there were only some music…

As if the castle had heard Minerva thinking, there was a sudden echo of music that seemed to be coming from every corner of every room. She walked down the hall, following the sound as it got louder, closer to the source.

 _Have yourself a merry little Christmas_

 _Let your heart be light_

 _From now on, our troubles will be out of sight_

 _Have yourself a merry little Christmas_

 _Make the Yuletide gay_

 _From now on, our troubles will be miles away_

 _Here we are as in olden days_

 _Happy golden days of yore_

 _Faithful friends who are dear to us_

 _Gather near to us once more_

Minerva was so lost in the Frank Sinatra song that she only realized that Hermione was standing at the end of the hall, smiling at her and beckoning the older woman to follow her out to the courtyard. She followed without a word, eyes widening at the scene before her, and hardly noticing when Hermione transfigured her nightdress into an elegant, and much warmer gown. It wasn't unlike the one she'd observed on Hermione already.

Greenery was wrapped around every pillar of the covered walk way, and if the twinkle in Hermione's eye wasn't bright enough, there were red and gold candles placed all around the pure white ground, burning brightly despite the light snowfall. Music continued to play as Minerva watched Hermione spin around in the snow in the center of the courtyard for a moment, before taking a deep breath and stepping into the spin, one hand on Hermione's hip and the other taking her hand. Hermione fell into step with her easily, and the pair danced a slow waltz as the muggle Christmas tunes continued to play.

Suddenly, Hermione stopped the dance, and when Minerva looked at her in confusion, the younger witch pointed upward with a chuckle. The elder witch glanced upward and saw a sprig of mistletoe, and upon further inspection of the sky above the courtyard, she found six other clusters floating around.

"I think we've been doing the slow dance long enough, Minerva," the younger woman said softly, hand reaching to cup her companion's cheek. "I'm ready to learn some new steps, but only if you are as well."

"You wonderful, wonderful woman," Minerva uttered, nuzzling the hand and tightening her grip around Hermione's middle.

Nothing else needed to be said and so the two of them leaned in, lips meeting lips with a tender caress of tongues. It was the perfect kiss. Of course, it was followed by six more perfect kisses in that courtyard, though when asked about it later, Minerva would always say that the first had been her idea of heaven. More than the perfect kiss, it was a perfect moment, and it was the beginning of a perfect Christmas. Most of all, it was the perfect start to the rest of her life.

 **On the eighth year of Christmas, Minerva gave to me…**

If had been a beautiful, perfect year together, Hermione thought. She and Minerva had fallen into romance with an ease that Hermione had only ever dreamed of, starting with that magical dance in the snow, and bringing them right up to now. There wasn't a single moment she'd change.

The hardest part of being together had been in telling their family and friends. For the most part, people had been very accepting, though there were a few who'd taken the announcement badly. Ron, even a year later, had a hard time looking her in the eye for reasons he had yet to name. Minerva suspected that Ron had feelings for Hermione, probably long harbored ones, and so when she'd turned out to be a lesbian in a lesbian relationship, he just didn't know how to argue against that. If Hermione had gotten together with a man, it would have meant he stood a chance still, but if she was with a woman, particularly a woman like Minerva McGonagall, he had no hope of competing. Hermione thought the lack of eye contact probably had more to do with the fact that Ron had found out via walking in on them in the middle of a very passionate snog - one which involved both women already being half naked. On Minerva's side of things, the only person who'd not taken their relationship in stride had been her Squib brother, Malcolm, who'd followed in their father's footsteps and become of a Minister. He was civil to them, at least, but he made it clear he could not approve.

Minerva, and her typical competitive self, had spent the better part of this year planning the perfect gift for Hermione, and it had been perfect. As soon as Christmas break had begun, she'd absconded with her lover to Paris, for a seven day long holiday. As if that had not been enough, she'd completed the gift with a beautiful engagement ring on Christmas morning, with eight smaller diamonds rather than one large solitaire. Hermione wasn't sure how Minerva managed to pick out the perfect jewelry for her, but just like the first gift from Minerva, the ring was exactly what Hermione might have picked out for herself.

"Hermione Granger," Minerva said, kneeling on the ground in front of a beautiful fountain. "For years and years I lived in doubt that I'd ever find love, and yet when I least expected it, there it was. You've made me happier in this last year - the last eight years, really - than I have ever been in my life. I don't know what I did to deserve you but I'd like the chance to keep doing it for the rest of my life. Will you marry me?"

If happiness was water, the ocean would have covered the earth in that moment. "Yes!" she agreed. "Oh, Minerva, gods above, yes!"

The ring was slipped on her finger, and then Minerva rose and the couple kissed. "Happy Christmas, Hermione," Minerva muttered.

"Happy Christmas, my love," Hermione replied.

 **On the ninth year of Christmas, Hermione gave to me…**

It seemed ludicrous to plan their wedding for any day other than Christmas. While it was a day that most people celebrated, it was moreso for them. It never failed to amuse both Hermione and Minerva that their relationship began with a book. Most grand adventures started with books, truthfully. There was only one thing missing from their wedding day according to Minerva, though Hermione was adamant that it was going to be perfect.

See, during the first Wizarding War against Voldemort, Minerva had met a wizard by the name of Cal Hopkins. He was an American mediwizard who'd only gotten caught up in the war in the first place because he'd decided to take a holiday to England on the day Voldemort's forces had decided to ransack Diagon Alley. Cal had not cared that the injured were not American. Hell, he hadn't even cared if they were wizards or muggle. All he saw were injured people, and he'd stepped in to help.

As Minerva had told Hermione the story, after witnessing the Order members of the time, herself included, rush to defend the people while the uniformed Aurors stood there looking baffled, he'd asked to be brought to Albus. "Take me to your leader!" he'd declared with a grin. "Or is that considered a spoiler for you folk."

Minerva had laughed, having grown up watching _Doctor Who_ just as he apparently had. One meeting later, he was inducted into the Order of the Phoenix, agreeing to stay in England until the war was over. To remain, he'd had to marry a witch (the Ministry of Magic of the time was enough under Voldemort's rule that they'd have looked for ways to get rid of Order members by any means possible) and that witch had been Minerva. Of course, Minerva being a lesbian and all the only thing they ever did was briefly snog on their wedding day. They'd quietly divorced at the end of nineteen eighty-one, and he'd returned to America.

Over the next several decades, they'd met up a few times, though Cal was the sort of man who liked to help whoever needed it, and that meant he was often off the grid, even by wizarding standards. He didn't exactly have travel plans to leave for someone, either. He'd simply go somewhere, do what needed done, and move to the next exceedingly remote location. It had been nine years since Minerva had last seen her former husband and always and forever friend, and when she and Hermione had been discussing guest list, she'd brought him up.

"I'd love to have my friend Cal there," she'd said sadly, "however I haven't the foggiest where to find him. I've tried tracking him before, with no bloody luck."

It occurred to Hermione then that if a House Elf could find its way to her, lost in the wild and behind some pretty heavy wards, then a House Elf should be able to locate Cal Hopkins wherever he was. She was actually surprised that the idea hadn't crossed Minerva's mind to locate her friend, while it had been how she'd managed to get a gift to Hermione that lonely Christmas. Still, she wouldn't mention it to Minerva. It was to be a surprise.

So, on the morning of their wedding, directly after serving breakfast to Minerva and Hermione, a House Elf named Hobbit flickered away from Hogwarts, and to a remote outpost in Greenland, where he'd already learned Cal was currently residing. Less than an hour later, the wizard and the elf appeared in Hogsmeade, where Cal would take up lodgings for the following few days, and where he'd get cleaned up and dressed for the surprise meeting of his dear friend and her soon-to-be wife.

"Min, how about a walk?" Hermione asked her lover as they were finishing up their breakfast. "I was thinking of going down to Hogsmeade for a short while, before we need to start getting ready.

"Sounds good, love," Minerva agreed easily. Of course, Hermione knew Minerva well enough to know that she was not about to stay cooped up in the castle all day long. She was anxious about the big day, and Minerva liked to take walks when she was anxious. "Though I think showers would be in order before we do that."

"You go ahead," Hermione nodded. "I'll be right behind you."

As soon as Minerva had started the shower, Hermione pulled out her wand, thought of their first kiss, and cast her patronus. "Go to Mister Hopkins and ask him to be in the Three Broomsticks in about half hour. We'll be a few minutes behind him."

The panther nodded and bounded away, and Hermione joined her soon-to-be (and frisky) wife in the shower. Minerva had been intent on a shag, but Hermione did not want to have to rush, and they did have a schedule to keep. Even if Minerva didn't have a clue.

Right on schedule, Minerva and Hermione walked into the Three Broomsticks, intent on getting something warm to drink. Always on the lookout for enemies after having lived through three wars, Minerva scanned the crowd before leaving the threshold of the bar, identifying each and every person in the room. She'd made it about three quarters through the crowd when she found a grinning face she'd not seen in nearly a decade.

"CAL!"

"Hey there, Minerva," the man greeted cheerfully. "Word is that you're getting hitched. I wouldn't miss that for all the plagues in Egypt!"

Suddenly, it crossed Minerva's mind that the only way Cal could have known she was getting married was if Hermione had something to do with it. She turned to her lover. "YOU!"

"Surprise?" Hermione said sheepishly.

"This is why you didn't want to shag in the shower, isn't it?" Minerva demanded, completely unaware that her voice had carried to at least half the people in the bar. "You planned this!"

Hermione put her hands on her hips. "Well, if you don't like the surprise, I'm sure I can send Mister Hopkins back to Greenland where Hobbit and I found him."

In a rare case of modern lingo use by the Headmistress of Hogwarts, Minerva's hand slapped over her own face. "Duh!" she groaned. "DUH!"

"You know, for a smart witch, I'm a bit surprised you didn't think of this a long time ago, especially given it's how you got me a gift on the Christmas the boys and I were on the run," Hermione mused.

"Now that you mention it," Minerva grumbled, "I'm feeling pretty bloody stupid."

"Not usually," Hermione countered, pecking her lover on the lips.

"Do I get one of those?" Cal asked, when Minerva returned the kiss with a little more vigor.

"No," Minerva laughed. "But you had better come give me a hug and tell me what you've been up to for nine years that was so important you couldn't be bothered to visit me."

The three exchanged stories for the better part of the morning, before the women had to leave to get ready, and after Cal had been roped into being best man for Minerva, he had to go do the same. Now, Hermione thought to herself, their wedding was perfect.

 **On the tenth year of Christmas, Minerva gave to me…**

"I want to have a baby," Hermione said suddenly as they made their way back to their quarters, after having been out to celebrate their one year anniversary.

"Okay," Minerva replied, raising an eyebrow.

"With you," the younger woman pressed.

"Well, I had hoped that bit would be a given," Minerva laughed. "Though I'm sure Ron would be accommodating if you asked nicely."

"Of course it would be _your_ baby too," Hermione groaned. "I meant that I'd want you to be there with us. Me and the baby. Though the pregnancy, though our child's early years, and not here at Hogwarts when he or she turned eleven and came to school."

"Ah, so you want me to retire," Minerva concluded, considering the thought.

Minerva had actually been thinking of that herself, though she'd yet to mention it to anyone but Filius, as it was he who'd be affected the most by taking over the Headship if she stepped down. Before she and Hermione had married, they'd discussed children, and agreed at some point they did want a family. Minerva adored kids, and would have gladly given Hermione ten children if she wanted them. Merlin knew she had plenty of money to support them, even if she did quit her job. The Head position paid well, and it came with a stipend after retirement so one could afford to do things such as travel, after gods knew how many years being tied to Hogwarts.

"I want to raise our children right. I don't want love to be conditional, like it was with your parents," Hermione tried to explain. "And I don't want them to have to fight for attention because the job was more important, like with my parents. While I can do my research from home if I needed to, you can't be Headmistress of Hogwarts from a delightfully cosy Manor off the beaten trail somewhere."

"Alright then," Minerva replied. "I'll retire and we'll have ten children, who we raise with unconditional love and without want of anything whatsoever."

"Just like that?" Hermione asked, looking skeptical at how quickly Minerva had agreed.

"Well I'd like to finish off the term," Minerva said. "I'd hate to leave Filius totally hanging when it's not an issue that can't wait a few short months."

"Oh, I'm more than fine with that," the younger woman agreed. "Though ten children seems a bit much."

"My love, I'll give you as many or as few children has you desire, and I will be with you one hundred and ten percent of the way," Minerva said tenderly. "I'll be there for you _and_ them."

"I really am a lucky woman," Hermione whispered.

"I'm just glad I wasn't stupid enough to push you away at the beginning of all this," Minerva admitted. "I did consider it, you know."

"What changed your mind?"

"I think it was the third kiss," Minerva said, thinking back. "I was so horny that cum was dripping down my leg, and it was so blasted cold that it froze on my thigh. I remember thinking that loving you was torture, and that I was happy to submit myself to whatever you could throw at me for the rest of my life."

"Blast it, love, now you've got _me_ horny," Hermione whined.

"I can fix that," Minerva promised.

"Well come on, then!" Hermione giggled, dropping her coat on the floor and making toward their bedroom.

Minerva sighed, picked up the coat and hung it on the coat hook not two feet away from where her wife had dropped it, and followed the love of her life into the room with a happy smile.

 **On the eleventh year of Christmas, Hermione gave to me…**

Hermione had never been more excited for Christmas. She'd been keeping it to herself for eleven days, wanting the announcement to be special, especially since it had taken so long to get here. According to Cal (who had become their personal healer after he'd decided to stay in London for a spell) she had a healthy baby girl on the way.

"Happy Christmas Min!" Hermione said chipperly the moment she woke up.

Minerva's sleepy hand made some small effort to bat her away. "Go 'way. Too early 'Mione."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Up, you lazy witch!"

"Noooo…" the elder witch moaned. Since retiring, Minerva had become somewhat less of a morning person. Without duties to attend to and an endless list of tasks that needed handled, the older witch had quickly learned to appreciate a good lie-in. Normally, Hermione was content to just cuddle in bed with her wife in the mornings, or get up on her own and read with a cup of tea until Minerva dragged herself out to the den in their four bedroom house.

But not today.

Hermione grabbed her wife's arm and wrapped it around herself, placing Minerva's slender fingers across her lower abdomen. "Happy Christmas, my love," she whispered.

"Happy Chris…"

Then Minerva's eyes opened wide as she realized where Hermione had placed her hand. She looked at Hermione, then down to their hands, and then back at Hermione. "Are you?"

Hermione's face was glowing as she nodded the affirmative. "Cal says six weeks."

Minerva smiled brightly, and kissed Hermione soundly. "Cal ought to be godfather," she suggested.

"Of course," Hermione agreed, having gotten to know the man in the last two years and found she liked the American quite a bit.

"Guess we should start fixing up the nursery then."

"After presents," Hermione suggested. "Not to mention breakfast. I feel like french toast again."

"I don't need more presents, love," Minerva said. "You just gave me the best gift I could receive."

"Fine, I'll send that wonderful quill set back," Hermione shrugged. "But I still want french toast."

"I'll make you french toast," Minerva acquiesced. "But I'm making eggs for myself. I can't take french toast for the fourth time this week."

 **On the twelfth year of Christmas, Minerva gave to me…**

"Can you believe it's been twelve years?" Hermione asked, hearing her wife step into the Library.

Minerva saw the book in Hermione's hand - _Artifacts by Class_ \- the very book that Hermione had gifted to her all those years ago. The book at that started everything that came after, right up to the birth of their beautiful daughter, Sarai Diana McGonagall, and each moment the three of them had shared since. "Sometimes it seems a lifetime, sometimes only yesterday."

"You get Sarai to bed alright?"

The older woman sighed. "It required singing that lullaby she likes a total of twelve times before she drifted off."

"You're a wonderful mother," Hermione said, putting down the book.

"Singing twelve lullabies makes me a good mother?" Minerva asked with a laugh.

"Rather your willingness to do it than the actual act of singing the same five notes over and over again," the younger woman explained.

"Well, at least I'm getting good practice," the former Headmistress said with a grin. "I'll be able to pull off songs with six different notes by the time the next one comes along."

"Oh?" Hermione asked. "You're ready to deal with my insane cravings again?"

"Well, according to Cal, it's rare that a women will crave the same things for different pregnancies," Minerva explained. "So maybe I'm just banking on you swearing off french toast for nine whole months. You gave birth, and you still want it for breakfast nearly every morning."

"It's good!"

"My dear, it stopped being good six months into your pregnancy with Sarai. At this point the smell of it sort of makes me want to vomit," the older woman admitted.

"Well, at least it's something easy to make," Hermione defended herself. "Maybe for the next pregnancy my craving will be for something like cheesecake."

"Then I'll incur your wrath and hire a House Elf. Maybe even Hobbit," Minerva mused. "He was always very helpful, and I hated leaving him behind at Hogwarts."

Hermione glared at her wife, and her wife laughed.

"Beloved, I am glad that some things will never, ever change," Minerva continued. "Happy Christmas, Hermione. For the twelfth time."

With a sigh, Hermione leaned in and kissed the love of her life, annoyance vanishing nearly at once. "Happy Christmas, Minerva," she whispered. "Let's go to bed."

* * *

 **Hope you all enjoyed the play on a classic Christmas song. PLEASE REVIEW!**


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